Hades and Persephone
by H. K. Rissing
Summary: The myth of Hades and Persephone is one many people think differently about.Some view Hades as a tyrannical abductor, one permanently cast in an unfavorable light. others think Persephone is the problem. but what if nothing was as it is always supposed?
1. The IrisMessage

Hades and Persephone

Hades sat on his throne of fused human bones and thought. Zeus had Hera (but then again, look how well that didn't turn out)and Poseidon had Amphitrite. Did it not make sense for him as well to take a wife? But who would accept him as he was and agree to live in the underworld with him? Certainly no woman he knew, immortal or otherwise.

He rose from his throne and strode out of the room. His underworld palace was a perfect reflection of the one on Olympus. He felt the familiar twinge of sadness and hurt as he recalled the place he had been banished from by his upstart of a younger brother. Him, Hades, the eldest of the children of Kronos and Rhea! After he had even helped his obnoxious brothers get rid of their father, they divided the world and he got the decidedly shorter end of the stick. After being forcibly sent from the light of the surface to rule the gloomy and dismal underworld, Hades privately felt he had every right to be as bitter, heartless and cruel as his relatives thought him to be. If any of them cared to remember, he had not once been intentionally hurtful or nasty, but of course, none of them would risk telling Zeus that, for fear they would share the most unpopular Olympians fate.

Yes, the only people who might have a chance of pointing that out and not being blasted were his siblings. Poseidon in particular, but why should he care? The sea was not nearly as bad as the underworld. At least he was allowed on Olympus as he pleased. At least he had a cabin at that new, ridiculous place for the gods to send their children, oh, what was it called- Camp Half-Blood. Zeus did not seem to despise him as much, so why should he complain or intervene, especially since there would be little to nothing in it for him. Zeus might also listen to his wife Hera, but Hades remembered her as a temperamental shrew, and was completely disinclined to ask her to do anything for him, partly because he didn't want her holding it over his head for the next century, and partly because she would certainly refuse and make him look like even more of a fool to the other gods. Demeter was little more than a wishy-washy of a woman, bending as easily under pressure as the stalks of grain she loved so much she even wove thru her hair. Hestia would be the best choice. She was the most empathic, the kindest of is siblings, and so the one most likely to be able to see thing thru his point of view and sympathize. But talking to Zeus about him might cause even more problems than they already had going on in Olympus, so the chances of her interceding on his behalf we remote.

He passed many of the reanimated dead he used to do his bidding, and all of them bowed to him. Admittedly, having servants bow to him, and having a place to rule had to be a little bit better than living on Olympus, but having to be

submissive to his little brother. And if it wasn't better, it helped make up for some of the scorching injustice of it all. Things could have been worse, or at least, that what he told himself on days when he was trying to be particularly upbeat about his situation. Yeah right. On the days that didn't end in y. Being Lord of the Dead was downright depressing about 99.9999999% of the time. He worked like a dog night and day to ensure the dead didn't go screaming out of the underworld and into the world of the living and wreak havoc. He had to judge souls who thought they qualified for Elysium or those who deserved to be sent to the Fields of Punishment. He had to open new subdivisions, oversee the hellhounds and the monsters and make sure they didn't completely overrun the earth with their slobber and their stench. Oh, and on your days off, could you make sure our father doesn't rise from Tartarus and kill us all? Thanks. As if he didn't have enough to do, now he was charged with this as well. He hadn't taken a single day off in all the centuries he had ruled under the surface.

Looking back on himself, he scoffed. After they had sliced their dear papa to pieces and thrown him, essentially, in the trash, he had been so full of hope. Now that he no longer lived in a stomach, he had been so excited, to see the world, to learn things. And best of all had been the prospect of a democracy, all things equal, governed by his brothers and sisters and him, the world flourishing and in peace, all work shared, all burdens falling on everyone's' shoulders. That was pretty much what happened, except that he had been cut out of the picture, and exiled underground to do a backbreaking, thankless, never-ending job. At least their grandmother Gaia was sorry for him. She had even made him a special flower, the narcissus. They grew where the ground between the underworld and the earth was especially thin, and put down very deep roots.

At last he reached his destination, a room with the only running water in the entire underworld. It was warm, and it bubbled and splashed, creating a mist over everything. In comparison to the rest o the ice-cold underworld, this room was practically tropical and Hades instantly felt stifled in his long, formal black robes. He waved his hand, and a golden drachma materialized in his long, pale fingers. "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my-" but he was interrupted by the realization that he already had an Iris-message, from the very person he had been trying to contact: his dear baby brother, Zeus. "Hades, brother!" Zeus thundered. Hades felt his face morph into his tried-and-true "I am extremely skeptical of anything you say" look.

"Perfect timing," his brother continued. He attempted a smile at the older brother he hardly knew, but Hades remained impassive and aloof, trying to ignore the drop of perspiration that was making its slow, insolent way down his back. "What have you contacted me for, brother?" Hades inquired in a voice that was colder than Stygian Iron. He knew this was probably not helpful for his campaign to leave the underworld, but the gods were all about living in the moment, and at this moment, it was completely worth the obvious squirm on Zeus' face. "I decided it was high time you took a wife. Ruling the Underworld must be hard, dreary work, and you've been alone all these past centuries……….." Hades felt his utter shock color the carefully calculated look on his face and his mouth hanging open slightly. This was exactly what he had been thinking about, and here was his brother doing something about it. When people did nice things for him, it was in his nature to become suspicious, but because it was his all-powerful, immortal, king-of-the-gods-higher-and-mightier-than-thou-lord-of-the-skies brother, he passed suspicious and became extremely suspicious.

"Why?" Hades asked suddenly. Zeus looked confused "Pardon?" he asked "I said, why. As in, why would you be doing something nice for me? You'd auction off my stem cells if you thought you could get away with it." Now Zeus looked even more confused. "And a stem cell would be….? Oh, never mind. I have my reasons." Hades responded dourly with, "And I'd like to know what those reasons are." Zeus looked even squirmier, and internally, Hades laughed, meanly.

"Well, if you must know, I…. I think you and my daughter Persephone would be a good match. " "What?" Hades choked out. "Are you crazy? I don't even know this- well, I presume it is a girl." Now Zeus looked like he was getting irritated. "Of course my DAUGHTER is a girl. And my son Ares is pursuing her and I do NOT want her to accept him. Demeter would los her mind." Hades snorted. "Demeter our sister, Demeter of the agriculture, Demeter the delicate little flower who will undoubtedly have a daughter much the same, and so both of them will be thrilled that Persephone gets to come and live in the dank, dark underworld with bitter, spiteful, gloomy me, naturally. That Demeter? And just how many children do you have?"

**Okay, so what did yall think? If I get ten reviews, I'll keep going, so DEFINITELY r&r and tell me what you think. **


	2. A Delivery for the Lord of the Dead

The day on which Hades was to alter the course of his life depicted by the Fate's loom forevermore began like any other day, for, like any good protagonist, he did not know what the coming day was to bring. He was sitting in his study, sifting thru sheaves of papers on his desk. Eventually just acknowledging that his desk simply had too much on it to ever look neat or orderly, he gave up and surveyed his study. It was circular, in one of the towers of his palace, and each wall was lined with shelves. And of course, the shelves were filled with ledgers and scrolls and papers and documents, all in perfect order. Everything had its place, Hades reasoned, so everything should be in its place. The same rule applied to his feelings. They were all clean-cut, easily classified, and so easily dealt with. Black and white, dark and light. All except for one area. The matter of Zeus' daughter, Persephone, his unwitting bride-to-be.

She could not be classified as either black or white, because Hades couldn't decide how he felt about her, whether or not he liked the idea of the Maiden of Spring as his Queen of Death, or opposed it. He had never set eyes on the girl, as Demeter had been overbearingly protective of her. Hades could understand why, because of what he planned to do. Or rather, what a terse, tight-lipped Zeus had advised him to do, at the end of an extraordinarily tense Iris-Message. Hades grinned a predatory shark grin, remembering his most recent conversation with his brother. He had been less than gracious, and now Zeus would probably seek a way to make him regret it, but it had been worth it.

He frowned as he stared absently into the distance, pondering over the matter or stealing this child-goddess away from the light, the sun, and from her mother. Surely she couldn't be more than fifteen years old. Thinking about abducting her right from underneath the stern but loving nose of her mother felt almost a wrong as thinking about stealing away a five-year-old. In fact, there was a sense of wrongness to the entire situation, which was most puzzling. For one, his brother had set up the entire affair, offering to call Demeter to Olympus. Demeter would leave Persephone behind, Persephone would go to pick flowers, and Hades would pounce. His brother helping him was by far the strangest thing of all. And of course, there were other doubts, niggling at the back of his mind, fleeting ones that disappeared the moment he tried to pin them down and analyze them.

As he continued mulling over his thoughts, a knock sounded on the thick wood doors to his study. "come in," he said. In entered Thanatos, one of his closest servants. Closest of course meaning one of the few whom he associated with on a daily basis. Behind him trailed a familiar man. He was tall, lean and tan, with salt-and-pepper hair and darting, worried eyes and a face that usually wore a much more mischievous expression. The wings on his helmet and sandals fluttered anxiously and he clutched a leather pouch. Hades rose to greet the other god. Lord Hermes, God of Messengers (for of course it was he) bowed to Hades, and said, "Lord Hades. I have been sent to deliver this to you. It's a gift from your brother, Lord Zeus." Hades raised and eyebrow, having fun making Hermes nervous. The poor good gulped audibly and hastily dug around in his pouch. The pouch was rapidly enlarging, but that wasn't the strangest thing. What Hermes drew out of it was most curious.

It was a mirror, wide as three Hades standing next to each other, and about twice as tall, with golden, gilded frame, and Hermes propped it against one of Hades' scroll shelves. It reflected back the scene perfectly: neat-as-a-pin study, populated by an unmoved (or if anything, moderately annoyed) Hades, a nervous Hermes, and a god of death (Thanatos), grinning stupidly. Hades quietly asked, "Is this supposed to be a joke, Lord Hermes?" It had to be some sort of humor on his brothers' part, telling him he needed to look into mirrors more. Hades let his gaze flicker between Hermes and the staff he used to strike down enemies in battle. The Messenger God got the message and paled, saying, "In accompaniment to the mirror, he said to give you this note, but not to read it. " Oh. Well, then, it had to be something pertaining to Persephone and the plans for her abduction. He took the tied scroll, and set it on his desk, subtly telling Hermes that it was time for him to leave. He didn't pick up on it, and Hades was forced to ask, "Is there anything else you need to give or tell me, Lord Hermes?" Hermes shook his head, and Hades continued coldly, "If not, I think best you show Lord Hermes out, Thanatos." Both men bowed once more, Thanatos murmured, 'My Lord', and then they both exited.

Hades turned to his desk and picked up the scroll. He opened it, reading,

"_Brother Hades,_

_If you are reading this note, then you also got the mirror. The mirror is magic. My son Hephaestos created it. If you stand directly before it, it will show you what you want most of anything in the world. I do not know what you might want more than anything, so the mirror has been enchanted to show you Lady Persephone. Send me an Iris-Message when you get this, and then, in two days from the exact time you send the message, it will be time. _

_Good luck,_

_ -Zeus_

Hades snorted at his brother. All this melodrama over something as simple as kidnapping a delicate fifteen-year-old. And not to mention his choice of words. If Hades hadn't known what he was talking about, he would have been totally lost. 'To make an analogy,' he thought, 'it will be easier than plucking a half-bloomed white rose from it's protective thorny bush.' Now Hades began to eye the mirror speculatively. He stood before it, and at first, nothing happened. It showed his study and him, looking anxious. Hades stared down his reflection, assessing the fear in his eyes. He was Hades, the Unseen, the causer of fear, never the one who felt it! Now he was extremely annoyed, not only at his brother, but at himself. If he was being completely honest, he was afraid of hat the mirror would show him.

But then the scene changed, morphing. It showed a field of swaying wheat, green grass, and vibrant flowers. The sky was an idyllic blue, and the bright sun cast everything in a golden light. Hades had to squint for the first few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the light and his brain adjust to the fact that there could be so much light in one place. He had forgotten that days like that existed, when the sun was so brilliant you could feel it even indoors and the sky had not a single could floating across it's crystalline vastness. He could hear shouts and peals of girlish laughter, with a background of a bubbling brook. "Persephone! Persephone, come over here!!!!" he heard a voice calling. Another voice responded, "where are you?" "Come and find me!!!!!!" the first voice called mockingly, followed by a giggle. Hades saw some of the tall stalks of wheat rustle, and figured that was where the first voice, presumably that of an Oceanid, was coming from. But then he drew in a sharp intake of breath.

Into the view of the mirror had pranced a girl- well, girl didn't do her justice. She was a grown woman, not at all the pale, passive, golden-haired child he had anticipated. She had tan skin and long lithe limbs, and hair almost as dark as his. It shone in the light of the sun, glossy underneath her crown of flowers. Her eyes were the warm color of the stones of amber that adorned her right wrist. She was wearing a snow-white dress, and her graceful feet floated over the rich dirt surreally. She threw her head back and laughed, calling for her companion to come out once more. She seemed to glow in the light of the sun, perhaps reflecting it, or perhaps it was her own inner light.

Hades stared into the mirror, eye greedily drinking in the sight of this lovely goddess of spring. She looked about 18 or 19, which was perfect as Hades looked about 20 or 21. Hades just stood there, hungrily absorbing her light, her delicate smile, the stunning contrast of dark hair to tan skin to pure, innocent white drape.

All of his previous thoughts, of how wrong it was to steal someone away from the place they belonged disappeared as soon as he saw her face. She looked so kind, so happy, so dazzling that Hades could not help himself. He wanted to keep her by his side always, so she could brighten his dreary, drab life. He wanted to protect her, to smile at her, to lay down at night and wake up in the morning knowing she was there, to adorn her slim graceful neck with pretty jewels, to make her laugh. It wasn't fair, that Demeter got to keep such a charming treasure all to herself. Didn't the Fates, or Nemesis, or someone, make it fair, so that no one had too much joy or too much sorrow in their lives. Feelings stirred in his chest, feelings that he had never known. He was smiling, and just looking at her made him want to laugh with joy. He decided, right then, that if her had to kidnap her to make her his, he would. Any trouble with his sister was more than worth getting to keep Persephone, the fairest of the fair, the loveliest flower in the garden.

He figured that she would be unhappy in the Underworld, so he decided that he would have to win her slowly, let her trust him. Who knew, perhaps one day she too might feel the pangs caused by Eros for him, she might come to love him in return.

He stepped away from the mirror, and when it went blank, he was surprised to feel a horrible emptiness inside him, like someone had just taken out one of his vital organs, leaving a gaping hole in his middle. He would have been perfectly content to pull up a chair and sit in front of the mirror all day, but preparations for her arrival had to be made. He called all of his closest servants to his study. He saw no reason to cover up the mirror, as Thanatos had probably already told them all about it. News traveled fast among his favored few. His closest servant included Hecate, Styx, Nyx,(who, despite rhyming names, were not related)Erebus, Thanatos, Hypnos, Morpheus, Alecto, Tisiphone, Megaera, Cer, and Moros. They were all given instructions pertaining to her imminent arrival. She was to have the room next to his, and the very best of everything. The carvers were to design the furniture without the usually scene of death, but with flowers and birds and suns. She would have jewelry and dresses and anything she could possibly want. He put the women in charge of picking out all things of that sort. She would be his queen, his bride……….. He felt his face redden as he considered that.

As they all filed out to begin their tasks assigned by Hades, Nyx, the night, turned to look at him with her head cocked. "My Lord…………" she said. "If it is not too impertinent, might I ask what you are intending to do with flower-shaped necklaces?" Hades considered treating her to his deluxe "thou-moronic-peasant" glare, but decided against it. If he glared at Persephone like that, she would be even more scared of him than she already would be. So, in the name of good practice, he smiled at Nyx, who seemed t find this quite terrifying, and told her he was planning to take a wife. She changed mood lightening-swift, giggling shrilly and Hades frowned. "what do you find so amusing?" he asked softly. "It's just funny!" She responded. "Your face was pinkish when we came in, and now your eyes are glowing. I didn't think it was possible for you to love anything, but-" Hades cut her off, saying, "You speak above your station, Nyx." She smiled and bowed, saying, "But you won't punish me, because you're in loooooooooooooove!!!!!!!!" Now Hades felt a death glare was more than appropriate. She danced out the door, calling over her shoulder, "It'll be nice to have more women around here." And now the rest of his closest underlings would spend the rest of the afternoon gossiping about his bride-to-be, who she might be and what she might look like and such. Wonderful.

A she shut the door, Hades turned back around to face the mirror. It showed him Persephone once more, and again, Hades was astounded by her radiance. His worries, his fears, his angers at uppity Nyx, all evaporated as he looked at her face. He made up his mind once more. Persephone would be his. Whether Demeter liked it or not.

** Okay, 10 comments was a bit ambitious, so I lowered it to five. Thanks those who commented. Your constructive criticisms are endlessly appreciated. Review and tell me what you think. If anyone has any suggestions for personalities for Hades' close underlings, I would appreciate them greatly. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Rebellious Persephone

Hades POV

After two day of doing nothing but staring in the mirror at Persephone, Hades had a lot of work to do. He could barely concentrate on any of it, though; because today was the day he would ascend to the surface to claim his lovely prize. He checked the timepiece sitting on one of the shelves in his study for what must have been the sixteenth time in five minutes. At three o'clock, he would go, because Demeter would be occupied on Olympus. Zeus would call her. That his brother was helping him was still a very new and confusing situation. In hindsight, Hades felt that something fishy should have been obvious, but for the moment he was too enamored with Persephone to become suspicious.

It was only eleven. Hades bit back a curse. Why must time move so slowly? The minutes seemed to stretch themselves as long as they possibly could, and the timepiece (which was no annoying Hades quite a bit) still ticked on, insolently, cheerfully, and disgustingly slowly. He pushed away the ledger he had been reading angrily, wishing, not for the first time in general, but for the first time for this reason, that he was his father and could manipulate time. He couldn't concentrate on his work, so it wouldn't be his best, so why bother with it? He walked up to the mirror and stood before it.

Again it showed him Persephone, and again she was enjoying a brilliant, sunlit day with her friends. They laughed and frolicked and splashed each other with water and made flower crowns. Hades felt as if a tight rope had been tied around his chest and now that he could see his dear Persephone, it had been loosened. But he knew as soon as he stepped away, the mirror would fizzle back to reflecting his drab study, and the rope would snap back into place. All too soon he had to do just that, as someone was knocking at his door. "Come in," he said, his voice harder than he had intended it to be. It was his servants, the "closest" ones. "My Lord, we have done as you commanded," Thanatos spoke, bowing and acting as spokesman for the group. "And everything is ready?" inquired Hades. "Yes, Lord." Responded Thanatos. "Good. Then ready my chariot." Hades said. He checked the clock once more. Only five more hours…………..

Persephone POV

Persephone laughed as she and her friends reclined on the sun-warmed, gentle slope of grass beside the river. Thetis, who was the eldest of her companions at 17, had just told and excellent joke. Of course, Persephone loved her friends the Oceanids. She loved being the goddess of spring, helping beautiful things grow and flourish. Today she just felt a little down. Today the monotonous tittle-tattle of her companions seemed more meaningless than usual, and the flowers not as bright, the sun not as warm as usual. Persephone had been able to put her finger on it at about midday- she craved a change. Everything was the same, day in, day out. Arise, eat breakfast with Mother, dance in the flowers and spend all day frolicking with nymphs, eat supper with Mother and then go to sleep more or less summed up Persephone's day-to-day life. She had no aim, no goals, and no purpose in life other than to make flower crowns and be pretty and entertain herself. There was nothing to challenge her, nothing was new or different or interesting anymore. And she supposed it was Mothers fault.

Ah, dear Mother. Persephone smiled absently as she thought of her Mother, the Great Goddess Demeter of the golden hair. She was a very loving and good, if overbearingly, stiflingly protective mother. She was stern when she needed to be and kind and caring the rest of the time. But it was as though she had not noticed the passing of Persephone's eight most recent birthdays. They had celebrated, of course, but She still got treated like a ten-year-old. Even worse, she was sometimes treated like an exceptionally stupid ten-year-old, one who needed constant reminding of silly little things, like not to touch thorns or not to cross the river, as she had been told every day since before she could toddle. Presumably this was because this entire side of the river for about five miles in any given direction was completely controlled by her mother. No one could enter the perimeter without Demeter knowing, and it had been be-spelled to keep all humans out, as there wasn't much Demeter could do if a god decided to visit. But very few ever did.

Persephone didn't mind her mothers paranoia. It was in her nature to forgive, as she understood it was in her mother's nature to want to keep her from ever becoming a full-bloomed rose, to keep her as a firmly shut bud for all eternity. Annoyed as she was by the prospect of remaining a maiden forever, she could understand, which was the main problem. If she couldn't see where her mother was coming from, it would have made rebelling that much easier. But of course, that wasn't to say she wasn't going to rebel anyway. Thetis had already had several jaunts with godlings, satyrs and mortals alike, and Persephone felt sure her sisters were much the same. Which of course, made her feel left behind and childish.

So as her friends slipped below the waters of the babbling river, Persephone allowed a scowl to mar her fine features. They had to leave early, to attend some gala or other festivity, at which there was sure to be dancing and gossip and men and scandal, so Persephone obviously didn't have an invitation. It was underwater anyway- how would she have breathed? She tried to console herself, but she felt abandoned and sulky.

To her mother, who was looking on, it appeared that her precious Kore was gazing at the river daydreaming. Demeter felt confident that her daughter, obedient little Kore, would stay safely put among the flowers. So the goddess of the swaying wheat gathered up her travelling cloak and hurried to Olympus, where she had received a summons from her brother, the all-powerful Zeus.

But Persephone felt that she was ready to take a step away from the persona given to her by her mother and instantly attributed to her by all others, as Obedient Little Kore. She gathered up the hem of her flowing white drape, kicked off her sandals and stepped delicately into the river. Her head was spinning with a delicious feeling she had never known, the feeling of breaking a rule. Surely there were flowers on the other side. She'd gather a bouquet for her mother, who would never know what Persephone had done. What she did not realize was how swiftly the sun was sinking, as if Apollo was racing the clouds across the heavens. She didn't realize that flowers were not the only things that waited anxiously on the other shore.

Once she reached it, she let her skirts fall back around her ankles as she looked around, her gaze full of wonderment. She had memorized the sights of these trees, had looked at them all her life, and always imagined what it might be like to stand among them. But never had she once imagined she might actually do it. Until five minutes ago.

She danced thru the forest, eyes wide. There were animals here, chattering brown things with bushy tails that crunched nuts. She plucked flowers and herbs and started to put them together to form a bouquet. She always made her bouquets a certain way. The most fragrant or attractive heads were lined up vertically and then less fragrant or less attractive heads were woven around the other stems, which kept everything tightly bound together. No one could duplicate quite the same results. Though the woods were much the same as the ones on the other side, everything seemed so foreign. But then Persephone realized how quickly darkness had fallen, and that the blue twilight was swiftly making the transition to velvety black night. Her sister Artemis had not yet begun her climb into the heavens, but Persephone felt very uneasy all of the sudden and began to hurry back to the streambed.

She stopped for a moment when she got there to admire the view, which seemed so much sweeter from the other side. The sun had just sank and left behind quite an array of colors. Persephone began to pick her way to the streambed when her foot was dashed against a sharp stone. She tumbled towards the ground, where more sharp rocks waited. But the sensation of cold, unforgiving stone piercing her flesh never came. She realized that she had been righted and that there was a pair of arms encircling her. She opened her eyes, rightly guessing from the scent, which was not at all unpleasant, that it was a man.

And what a man it was. Persephone had hardly ever seen creatures of the opposite gender and so was amazed by this one. Everything about him, from the way his hair fell in an ebony curtain to his shoulders, to his skin that was so pale it looked like it has never been touched by the sun to his lean muscular build was intriguing. But his eyes were the most mysterious. They were black iris layering seamlessly onto black pupil, darker than night, yet gleaming with a keen intelligent fire. He did not look unkind; surely he could not mean her any harm. After all, if he did, she simply could have let her fall onto the rocks. He spoke, and his voice was deep and smooth. "Lady Persephone." Just two words had been spoken, but in those two words had been an air of decisiveness, an aura of power. And he had called her 'Lady Persephone', as though she was the equal of any goddess on Olympus and not their inferior, as 'Little Kore' or 'Sweet Kore' implied.

Persephone realized that his warm arms were still around her and she drew back and curtsied charmingly. She shut her eyes and felt a blush color her cheeks as she dipped her head. And when she stood back up she did not look at him, but rather looked demurely at the ground, for she was not sure of how one was to conduct oneself in front of a man "You are right, I am Persephone. Thank you for saving me. I am unaccustomed to walking on such sharp, treacherous rocks. "Her heart started to race, thrumming loudly. The man smiled at her. "But I do not believe I know who you are." She continued. Now the man's smile turned sad. "I did not expect you to. I am Hades." As he said the words, a shiver ripped down her spine and brought the hair on her exposed arms up. She had been able to tell her was a god, from the power that radiated from his being, but had not guessed that he was the Lord of the Dead. "Lord Hades." She said softly. "I thank you once again, but I………..I……….. I really must be going. " She cursed both herself and her mother internally, for she social awkwardness. Thetis would have been smooth and sassy and sure of herself, but by contrast, what with her pathetic stammer and completely unmemorable response, Persephone felt like a ten-year-old. She turned to go.

But Hades reached out and caught her hand. "No! Stay, please." He said. On his face, for the briefest second, was an expression of anguish, but it was quickly replaced by a comforting smile. His grip on her hand, which had been vice-like and tight, relaxed into a friendlier grip. "Watch the sun set with me." He quietly implored. Persephone didn't mind spending more time with the dark stranger that was Lord Hades, and so did not bother pointing out that the sun had long since set. She came to stand next to him, but as she did so, she tripped on the slick rocks once more. He caught her again, but before she could stammer out another thanks and turn another shade of reds, the muscles in the arm around her waist contracted. Persephone was flung over the god's shoulder in a very unceremonious way. She dropped her bouquet and began to hit at Hades until he pinned her arms down with his free hands. She bucked and kicked and screamed as loudly as she knew how, but all to no avail.

He had been moving very swiftly and they arrived at a black chariot, with golden inlaid scenes of painful death, harnessed to two midnight black stallions. He climbed into the chariot quickly and whipped the horses. The ground opened up, a massive, yawning dark space in the earth, and Hades drove straight into it. Persephone was screaming and crying simultaneously, yelling for help on the off chance anyone could hear her. No one could

The earth swallowed them whole and the scene above where they had disappeared as ethereally quiet. The brook still bubbled and the birds began to chirp tentatively again. All that was left of Persephone, Demeter's precious child, her one and only little girl, was a few drops of shining golden ichor smeared on a sharp rock and a bouquet of flowers. Persephone realized only later that her girdle had fallen as well and lay in a discarded heap next to her distinctive bouquet, a horrifying sight for the next person to chance upon it.


	4. The First Hours

Persephone had long since ceased shrieking for help and trying to break free, and was sobbing so heartbrokenly Hades almost turned around and took her back to the surface. He skirted around Cerberus and the Asphodel Fields, and certainly around Tartarus and the Fields of Punishment, so as not to frighten her anymore than he already had. They reached the gates of his palace and he stepped out of the chariot, setting Persephone on her feet but still keeping his arms around her. She struggled weakly, but seemed to realize her effort were fruitless and stopped, looking around at everything with huge eyes full of mistrust, bewilderment and tears. She turned her wet face to him and said, "I presume you have taken me to the underworld, your kingdom. But why? What do you want with me? I don't even like the dark and the night and the cold, much less know you."

Hades got the feeling she just called him dark and cold, but decided to ignore it. "I want a queen, a wife, a consort." He said quietly, looking into her eyes, concentrating on making his gaze as comforting as possible. She shivered and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her with the friction. "And so, out of all the goddesses, nymphs or mortals you could have had, you chose me. Me, an eighteen-year-old who's spent every day of her life in the sun with her mother and her friends and has never even seen you before in her life." Now she was looking mad, two blots of pink having appeared on her cheeks as she lashed him with her words. "But I've seen you." He said. She looked surprised and disgusted. Hades regretted it and backtracked. "Of course I chose you. There is no one, no goddess, nymph or mortal on Olympus, earth, under the sea or anywhere else that is your equal. You surpass them all. You are lovelier than Aphrodite, more regal than Hera, you were born to do more than make flower crowns and chatter with mindless Oceanids." She looked away, her gaze still angry, but her body relaxed, just a little. Hades felt personally that she fit in his arms very well. "So what do you plan to do with me now?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I won't force you to do anything that you don't want to do." Her head swiveled back to face him. "Then you won't force me to stay here!" Now it was Hades turn to look away. "Except that."

She began to struggle against him once more, saying, "I want to go back to my mother! I don't want to stay here with you! Let go of me!" Hades began to tug her towards the cavernous entrance hall, saying, "I think you'll feel better once we get inside," even though he knew very well she wouldn't. Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch as she shrieked, "I WILL NOT! I WILL NOT SET FOOT IN YOUR UGLY CASTLE! I WILL NOT STAY HERE AND I WILL NOT MARRY YOU AND BEFORE YOU SAY IT, I WILL NOT, NOT, NOT GET USED TO IT!" He didn't want to, but she had left him with no choice. He picked up the screaming woman once more and threw her over his shoulder. She continued shouting her head off and Hades was glad she couldn't see him, because if she could, the smile on his face would surely bring on another round of screaming.

It was very amusing, entertaining, really, that this sweet, sheltered child of the flowers who knew nothing of curses or foul language or actually cutting insults was really trying her best to "hurt his feelings". He was almost tempted to keep striding around the palace and let her yelp herself hoarse, but he decided that was rather unkind. If he was being honest, some of the things she was saying really did hurt, but being honest wasn't one of his strong suits. In fact, one of his father's titles, the Crooked One, wasn't too far off when it was applied to him. Normally, when he wanted something, there wasn't very much that could stand in his way of getting it. But with Persephone he intended it to be different. He meant it when he said he wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. He felt fairly confident he could win her love. How, he wasn't sure yet, but he felt sure of himself. If he could win her affections, perhaps when her mother found her, she would chose to stay with him. It wasn't even a matter of if. Her mother would undoubtedly realize, after having exhausted all other venues that there was no other place she could possibly be. But if she didn't choose him, he wouldn't force her to stay. So much as considering that made his gaze spit sparks of fury and wipe all traces of a smile from his face.

Persephone was still screaming abuse as he wove through the catacombs and hallways of his palace. His good humor returned as he listened to her rage. He never would have guessed that she would be so full of spirit-she had seemed so quiet, so docile, demure. But she had defied his expectations where everything else was involved, so he supposed this shouldn't be surprising.

Eventually they reached her rooms. Hades supposed they were nice, if you liked flowers and suns and such smiling cheerfully at you as you tried to sleep. There was a foyer, a bedroom, and a bathroom, the bathroom and the bedroom behind the foyer. In the foyer, there was a window that overlooked an empty plot of land. Hades had been meaning to do something with that land for some time, and it occurred to him that perhaps he could offer it to her as a present. Edging the windows, doors and crown molding were mosaics of jewels in the shape of flowers, some glowing luminescent, lighting the room. Fine jewelry pieces were arranged on the vanity. Everywhere in the room, precious materials shone subtly. Despite the fact that most would only be able to dream of such riches, Persephone seemed completely unimpressed. But then she saw what was displayed on the dresser.

As soon as Hades had set her back on her feet and she had ceased screaming, she ran right for the vase full of flowers. Even Hades had to admit they were beautiful little things. They winked a thousand different shades and shimmered a hundred hidden hues. But as Persephone reached out for them, pressed her perfect nose to them, she became aware of reality: the flowers were constructed of gems. Tears began to flow down her face once more as she looked at the bitter mockeries of her flowers. Hades walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and whipped around to look at him with eyes that managed to be both incensed and full of sorrow at the same time. Her mouth was open as if to say something, but she must have caught the humor that was evident in his gaze and she shut it again. She picked up the delicate, graceful urn that housed the flowers, and walked over to the window. She opened the pane of smooth glass stuck the jar out and dropped it. Hades could hear its tinkling crash as the fragile ceramic and the breakable flowers splintered into a million glittering pieces. She turned around and jutted her chin out, putting her hands on her hips. Her white drape billowed loosely away from her lithe frame at the loss of her girdle, and after having been seized and picked up twice, overall she looked very disheveled. Nevertheless, on her, disheveled was lovely.

"There is a bathroom through this door and dresses in this wardrobe. I request that you put one on and join me in the dining room" She jutted her chin out further and her eyes glittered with…fear? Defiance? Sorrow? But her mouth remained firmly shut. She crossed her slender arms over her chest and shook her head. "Please?" Hades guessed. The word felt foreign in his mouth. She glared and shook her head once more. Now her silent obstinacy was beginning to annoy, he was unaccustomed to having to wait or say please for anything. "Shall I make it a command?" he asked, drawing closer, voice rising slightly.

"It will do you no good- I have no wish to wash in your water and wear your dresses and eat your food. And besides, you said that you wouldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."

As swiftly as his annoyance had come, it disappeared. "You are right, I did, and I apologize. If I may not have the pleasure of your company, would you mind staying in your quarters? I don't want you to get lost, as there are several places in the underworld that are more than unsuitable for you." His civility, his transparent worry made her surprise plain on her face. "But should you change your mind and decide to join me, there are some people you should meet first. You can come in now." He said the last five words in a louder tone. In walked the five slightly shamefaced women who had been eavesdropping. "This is Hecate," the first curtsied, and as she moved her black dress shimmered iridescent blue. "Styx," she curtsied as well, her hair undulating and waving as though she was underwater, and her black dress was adorned with silver waves at the neckline. "Nyx," she curtsied, dark, straight hair blending with her dark dress and her mouth curled into a wry smile. "Cer," who curtsied also, and her black hair that tumbled past her black-sheathed shoulders was streaked heavily with white and silver. "and Moros." who additionally curtsied, her dark dress high-necked and a necklace of bloody red beads a garish gash of color.

"They will be your handmaidens. They will assist you with any problems you might experience, should you not feel like coming to me. They will keep you company, and from wandering into the more inappropriate areas of my realm. I will leave you now." He walked over to the door that lead into the hallway, but stopped short, feeling that something more needed to be said, but not knowing what. "And, Persephone... I truly am sorry." He blurted it out without thinking about how it would be received first. He wanted to say more, but Persephone shrieked with rage, and snatched a small, albeit lavishly bejeweled ring from the vanity and hurled it at him. He caught the tiny object easily with his sharply honed reflexes, but she began to snatch other items and lob them across the room at him, screaming and stomping her feet in an almost ridiculous fit of childish histrionics. Hades took that as his cue to leave, melting away into the shadows a safe distance away, her shouts still echoing in his ears.

After Persephone had successfully destroyed every item on the vanity by smashing them on either the ground or the walls and stomping the pieces into a gritty powder, she stalked over to the wall that wasn't surrounded by fragments and threw herself against it, sank to the ground, pulled her knees against her chest, and wrapped her arms around herself, eyes now dry and shooting sparks of fury. Nyx started right in.

"Well! I certainly resented that 'I don't like the night' comment. I am the embodiment of the night, you know. But I forgive you." She continued flippantly. Something in the immensely self-confident way she carried herself was reminiscent of Thetis. Hecate smiled, and her skin glowed with a silver sheen. "We will be like sisters, Queen Persephone." She announced. Persephone, having recovered from her bout of juvenile wrath, blushed, and said, "Please, just Persephone." Moros smiled, taking her non-shouting as a good sign. "Even if you don't accept Lord Hades' invitation-" "Which is completely not like him at all, because if he eats at all, he always eats alone." interrupted Nyx. Moros scowled at her and continued in a louder voice. "I think you should take a bath. It'll relax you more than anything. I know you must miss your mother and your friends and we don't think we'll be able to replace them, but we hope that we'll at least be able to ease your loss."

Persephone's' eyes felt raw and tired, like the blood in her eyes had solidified into some slightly crunchy substance, and her throat was hoarse and burning, from all the crying and screaming she had done that day. Every breath she drew made the dull ache in her shoulders, neck and head pound and whistled down her throat sharply. The wall and floor was cold, stone pressing against her, and her toes and the backs of her legs were beginning to numb from having sat so tightly pressed for so long. A hot bath seemed like the most wonderful thing anyone could offer her at that moment.

They ushered her into the bathroom and infused it with fragrant steam as they filled a black marble tub with hot water. Persephone sank below the warm white bubbles, reflecting. All right, perhaps the Underworld was not as ghastly and wretched and terrible as she had expected. But still, there was no sweet birdsong, no fragrant, living blossoms, no hot sun. And perhaps Hades wasn't at all the gruesome, morbid tyrant she had expected and was in fact being a gentleman, but he still abducted her. And yes, perhaps her new handmaidens were not death-obsessed freaks, but some of them were the goddesses of night and black magic and violent death, which are hard qualities to overlook when picking friends. Persephone could tell already that if the Oceanids were clear, shallow puddles, they were deep, murky, rushing rivers. And of course, the matter that she had been abducted and that her family would be going out of their minds with worry, and that she missed her mother terribly still remained.

But unlike her mother, Hades spoke to her like she was capable of making her own decisions. Of course, her mother had never made her do anything unpleasant but often she insisted she do things, like if Persephone wanted to go play by the river, sometimes her mother made her go to a different field, always for a reason, but that didn't make her insistence any less irksome. But underneath a longing for the sun and flowers and warmth and her mother was a guilty prickle of excitement. Everything was 1,000% different. Had it really been only that afternoon that she had internally complained of the sameness of her days? It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had resented Thetis and her escapades.

Her handmaidens were talking about things, more or less the same things that the Oceanids had talked about, but they didn't talk with careful phrases and look at her out of the corner of their eyes to make sure they hadn't offended her. They seemed so much wilder, so much more…. grown up than the Oceanids, who had once seemed impossibly sophisticated to Persephone, though it was she who was older.

She had been so lost in her musings that she hadn't realized that she was no longer in the bath, but seated in front of the vanity in a fluffy robe. She stared into the mirror wide-eyed at the stranger who stared owlishly back. Her face was pale, lips vermilion, and her eyes seemed much darker than they always had in the light of the sun. "Well, Lady?" asked Nyx. "Shall you join our Lord Hades for dinner, or stay here?" Without fully thinking, she blurted, "I will join him." Nyx clapped her hands. "Excellent! We already have your dress picked out."

She reached into the wardrobe and what she drew out was a magnificent, elaborate dress. Persephone felt her mouth drop open the smallest bit and her eyes get wide." It was more intricate than anything she had ever seen before, and far more grown-up looking than anything she had ever worn. In the few times her cousin our great aunt, or whatever she was, Aphrodite had visited her, Persephone could gather that this was the sort of thing she wore. She felt certain that she would look like a child playing at being grown in her mothers' clothes. Not that she cared, of course. After all, who would see her in it? Only Lord Hades….

She shut her eyes as they pulled it over her head. She kept them shut as they adjusted it, strings pulling the black silk tight around her abdomen. She opened them as a hush fell around the room. She looked in the mirror and was astounded by what she saw.

Gone was sweet little Kore, here was a grown up, sleek, dangerous-looking Persephone. The dress was constructed of black silk and the back was completely open, revealing a tanned expanse of her skin, crisscrossed by black silk cords. The torso was pulled tight by the cords and adorned with a very thin film of black lace and studded with diamonds and onyxes in flower designs. The lace came to a graceful halt at her hips but the flower designs continued down except more spaced out. Where the lace stopped, the silk gathered and flared out, trailing on the ground behind her and reminding her of her royal aunt Hera, who had sometimes come to visit her and her mother in their humble cottage, a far cry from the luxury and glitz of Olympus. They pinned her waves of black hair up on her head and held them in place with gem-studded hair-combs.

Persephone was not altogether sure she like this transformation. She looked more like a strong, independent, gorgeous queen than a frightened, lonely, eighteen-year-old pining for her mother, for the sun and the flowers and the fields she had grown up in. "Of course, it'd look better if you- oh, never mind. Let's get you to dinner." Said Nyx. As she talked, Moros draped a black satin choker around Persephone's neck, and from it dangled a delicate black marble rose with settings of gold. They laced flat sandals with golden straps around her feet and wrapped a gauzy black shawl around her fully exposed arms, and then glided through to doors into the hallway. They went down winding halls, up stairwells and through twisting catacombs. Persephone saw tapestries and stained glass windows and other such things that she had missed while screaming at Hades.

They came to a set of granite doors, and Persephone expected them to march right through them like they had all the others but her handmaidens stopped. "This is it." Said Styx. "Wait, what?" yelped a startled Persephone. She had become used to their company in the last hour, and wanted at least one of them to stay with her as she ate with the dark Lord. "He didn't invite us, only you, so only you go in there." responded Cer. "But… but I don't know what to say, how to act…! I can't go in there alone!" Hecate smiled and patted her elbow. "Relax. He's not going to bite you." She said. "And I'm willing to bet he's not half as awful as you have made him out to be." Styx contributed. "So get in there, girl!" whispered Nyx as she shoved Persephone gently towards the door.

The young goddess of spring was very nervous as she reached for the door handle. The only men she had ever had conversations with were her brothers Apollo and Hermes, and her father Zeus. How on earth (or rather how under earth) would she present the fact that she was very flattered that he thought so highly of her, but that she was made to live above ground? She took a deep breath, pushed the door open and entered with her head held high.


	5. Beginnings

Hades had been waiting patently for a little over an hour, trying to squelch the hope that was continually trying to well up inside of him. Persephone had every right to stay in her chambers and scream and sob and wail for her mother, whereas he, her abductor, her kidnapper, the causer of her sorrow, had absolutely no right to want to see her. She was not his, and at this rate, probably never would be. He tried his best to convince himself that she would not come, but hope, that annoying feathered thing that was still persisting in trying to shove its way into his heart, would not relent.

Eventually, he resigned himself to the fact that she simply was not coming. He sat down and heaved a small sigh, looking at the food that would have once appeared appetizing. It had long since grown cold, but he had no desire to call one of his servants to warm it up, because he would undoubtedly be hateful to them. He continued contemplating his food as he picked up his fork, wishing he could rid himself of the hope that bloomed a little bit more with every passing second. His heart, the small part of him that would write her songs and sing them to her on bended knee, give her absolutely anything in the world that she might possibly want, the hopelessly romantic part of him that wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, told him she would come. Hades tried to ignore the fact that that part of him had appeared three days ago, the first time he saw Persephone's face, and was getting increasingly larger. His brain, the logical, cynical part of him that was focused and efficient and cold as ice that had dominated his personality for so long, told him she would not. He glanced hopefully once more at the door, and had to set down his fork, having quite forgotten how to breathe and blink, much less chew and swallow. But blinking while this stunning apparition was before him seemed like the very worst kind of sacrilege.

It was Persephone, without a doubt. But it was not the childish, laughing, carefree little girl version of Persephone. She looked stunning, magnificent, every inch a queen in her flowing black dress. The luster of the silk, the shimmer of the gems, the darkness of the material suited her so well, much better than the now-ridiculous looking white garb that she had been wearing that looked like someone had woven cloth, wrapped it around her, stuck it in place with a girdle, and sent her outside. Even then, she had looked beautiful, and in this dress he looked breathtakingly exquisite, so lovely she was almost painful to look upon. It fit every slim line of her to perfection, and Hades wasn't sure if he should thank Nyx and the others for that or have them horsewhipped.

Hades stood and walked toward her, thankful that he was still in control of his locomotive functions. She blushed and looked down as Hades pulled out a chair for her. As she sat, Hades suddenly remembered how to breathe. His first breath since the hope that had nestled in his heart began crowing triumphantly was full of the heady, intoxicating scent of Persephone. It was not flowers or sun or grass or honey or anything else that Hades could name, but rather a combination of everything that could smell pleasant and was warm and Hades almost stuck his nose in her hair to smell more of it. He realized that this was probably a very strange thing to want to do, and so refrained. As she sat, some of the reanimated dead came rushing out with a plate of food, which they set in front of her. She shuddered as she looked at them, revulsion and fear plain in her eyes.

"Lady Persephone." He said quietly. "Lord Hades." She responded in an equally quiet voice. Persephone was more than a little bit ashamed of the fit she had thrown, what with the throwing things and shouting mean names. His intense eyes had not left her face since she entered the room, and judging by the pink hue of her cheeks, she was not unaware of that.

"Lord Hades, I am sorry for the things I said, if they were hurtful to you. As…. flattered as I am that you would choose me, the joke is over. I would like to return to the surface now. And out of curiosity, who told you to do this? Since I assume this was a practical joke, I'll guess it was Thetis. Am I correct?"

Hades was very, very surprised to say the least. "So you think all of this is a joke." He said. Persephone nodded politely, glad that he had caught on so quickly. "Of course. What else could it be?" she was very annoyed, however, when he threw his head back and laughed. "So," pause to chuckle. "You think I did all this…" more laughter, "as a practical joke, or…." Laughter again, "a favor to a bubblehead Oceanid?" more laughter. "I'm sorry, but if this was a practical joke," louder laughter, "what with all the screaming and kicking," laughter again, "I would have returned you to the surface a long time ago."

When his mirth had subsided, he saw Persephone looking at him with a furrowed brow. "So this is not a joke. You were serious about abducting me and marrying me and keeping me here forever." Hades nodded slowly. Her eyes filled with tears, and Hades felt something he'd felt very often in the past few hours: the sudden compulsion to comfort her. "I wouldn't really keep you here forever- as soon as I am sure that you will return to me, you can go to the surface as often as you want. As you've seen with your own eyes, my kingdom is a cheerless place populated by the dead. I rule over them, I work and work, and try to carve some sort of respect out of my family, but all to no avail. I need you here with me, to brighten my dark world." Through all this he was trying desperately to catch her eye, but she was stubbornly avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry, Lord Hades. But I was born to live aboveground, to nurture pretty plants, to dance with the 'bubblehead Oceanids', as you call them, to bask in the sun." She still was not looking at him. "No," he said gently. He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, turning her face towards his and staring into the depths of her warm eyes. "As I put it earlier, you were born to do so much more." He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose. "I give your parents five weeks, maximum to find you. And when they do, given that you are not bound to me or my realm in any way, you will be free to go and live out your life mindlessly, never reaching what you could have been." She jerked her chin away from his hand. "So just how would one go about becoming bound to someone or their realm? I don't want to do anything unwittingly." Hades wished she hadn't brought this topic up. He had promised himself that he would not lie to her, and lying included leaving out parts of the truth. "Well," he began slowly. "The most obvious of them is marriage. And there is one other way. If you eat the food of the underworld, you must remain here forever." Her face blanched as she looked down at the plate of food in front of her.

"You didn't have to tell me," she whispered, after about five minutes had passed, so quietly Hades nearly hadn't heard her. "You didn't have to tell me. It would have been that easy for you to keep me here, and I wouldn't have even known. There was nothing that said you had to tell me, and yet you did anyway. Please, excuse me….. I have to go." She appeared on the verge of tears once more. She raced out the door, and hades heard one solitary sob. He was completely nonplussed. What had he even said?

Having lost his appetite, he rose from his chair and walked to his study. Looking in the mirror, he saw that either somehow she had found her way back to her rooms or one of her handmaidens had found her and brought her back to her apartments. She was still wearing her elegant dress, but her hair had come undone and she was bawling at the top of her lungs. Her handmaidens were looking on, obviously not knowing what to do. Once she had regained enough control to sit up and stop crying quite so loudly, Hecate and the others sat down next to her. They dried her tears and stroked her hair, and eventually, Nyx asked, "So was it really that bad, or are you being melodramatic?" that brought on a fresh round of sobs and between them, Persephone choked out, "No! It wasn't!" her handmaidens were now even more bewildered. "Then why are you crying?" Hecate asked gently. Out of all of them, Hecate was the most subtle and kind. "Because!" Persephone wailed. They let her cry herself out for another fifteen minutes, and then she spoke in a tiny voice. "He told me that if I ate Underworld food, I'd have to stay here forever." Hecate guessed, "And that upset you?" Persephone sighed. "No, that's just it. He did not have to tell me at all. But he wouldn't trick me like that. He is polite, and I can understand why he wants me to stay with him. And I feel sorry for him," she admitted in an even smaller, lost-sounding voice. Her voice rose once more as she continued, "If he wasn't all those things, I could hate him, and walk away without a backwards glance when my parents find me, which he thinks will take five weeks, but I think it will take much shorter. That's the worst thing about me. I can understand people very well, I can sympathize with them, and my tender heart makes it hard for me to do what I want sometimes, as opposed to what others want. If I can avoid hurting someone else, I'll do it, no matter what the cost to myself. But this is a situation I cannot win. If I stay here and make Lord Hades happy, my mother suffers. If I go, and make my mother happy, Lord Hades suffers. I already feel. . . . intrigued by him, drawn to him. I want to find out why he's guarded, I want to see him smile. But I need to live beneath the sun, to hug my mother and pick flowers again. So what to do?" she flopped back on the bed with a sigh of frustration. "Do whatever is best for you." Said Moros. "You have five weeks, give or take a few days, to decide. You don't have to have one set-in-stone course of action tonight. Just give it a little time." Persephone gave her a watery, weak smile. "Now come on, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow," said Styx. They hustled her up off the bed. "A big day doing what?" she questioned warily. "Sightseeing in the Underworld, what else?" responded Cer.

As they pushed her gently into the bathroom and began to unlace her dress, hades stepped away from the mirror. Spying on Persephone that way seemed wrong. He paced around his study again and again and again. At least now he knew why she had been crying. But what could he do about it? Even though she had only been in the Underworld a paltry few hours, and was there against her will, it already seemed to be a brighter place. And if even his dark, forbidding kingdom could be made brighter, happier, by this lovely flower even while she closed her peals in sorrow, what would it be like when she opened them and let her radiance chase away all of the shadows?

When he had spent an hour musing in circles, he stepped toward the mirror once more. The room was dim, but Hades could see and hear better in the darkness that he had become accustomed to, and could see that even with tears dripping onto her pillow, puffy, red-rimmed eyes, mouth turned down into a frown and sniffling quietly, she was beautiful. Then a thought occurred to Hades. "It is foolish," he thought, "When you have powers at your command as I do, to use a magic mirror to watch someone unnoticed."

On the bookshelves facing the south side of his kingdom, on the second shelf from the top, sat a black war helm, with sinister-looking designs, carvings, and a black horsehair plume. Hades picked up his Helm of Darkness and slid it onto his head. Since his study was well lit, nothing happened, but as he made his way into the darkened corridor outside of his study, he felt the strange disorientation that came with becoming one with the shadows that surrounded him. It disappeared as quickly as it had come. He stood before the door separating him from Persephone, took a deep breath, and willed himself to merge with the darkness on the other side of the slab of wood.

He could hear Persephone crying more distinctly now as he silently hastened to the side of the bed where a lump of bedclothes quivered. He wished he could have reached out and touched her, calmed her, soothed her, but his presence would most likely have exactly the opposite effect on her. She was no aware of him as she continued crying and eventually most of her tears dried as she drifted off into sleep. Hades let his finger brush down, almost absently, to stroke away the last crystalline drop of sorrow from her cheek, and felt ashamed- how could he keep her here, knowing how much pain she was in? How did the saying go- if you truly love something, set it free? He set himself right by reminding himself that his first impression of her was correct: she was amazing, but if left up to her mother's devices, she would never be anything more. He was helping her. . . . wasn't he? Hades spent the whole night by her side, watching her and wondering what dreams came to her, what thoughts would occupy her head the next day. When he could feel Nyx reentering his kingdom and bringing the cloak of night that was so powerful if anyone but her, a primal deity, touched it, they would be condemned to an eternal night, he knew he had to leave.

He stole back to his study, hit himself in the head a few times for good measure, and immersed himself in his now-piled work, refusing to let his mind stray anywhere near a certain goddess of springtime: she couldn't be thinking of him, so what was the point?

**The next chapter is going to be Demeter's POV, and will introduce a semi-unforeseen plot twist, so stay tuned and let me know what you think! Special thanks to all 34 of you who have reviewed so far, extra-and-especial thanks to anaklusmos1, sweettwilightvamps13, insomnia, andy, trekkie56, acast, supersmiles, Annie Get Your Board, Emmy, Zoe Nightshade, The-Magic-Orb, and Kay Celestine. I appreciate you all for your indisputable advice and knowledge. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

When Demeter returned from Olympus the next morning, she did not think it strange that Persephone was not in the house. After all, Persephone was an early riser, and the morning was already almost midway through. So Demeter, unworried, continued about her duties. When it was time for their midday meal, she found it odd that her daughter was not back, but decided that she must be having too much fun with her friends to come home. Demeter smiled absently to think of her well-liked, sweet daughter, who was so popular with all her little friends. But she was not worried. She went to the northern fields, to help farmers there cultivate their wheat. But as the shadows got longer, the rays of the sun amber rather than yellow and less warm, she began to worry. She searched the south, west, and east fields, calling for Kore to come out, thinking her daughter was playing a game. She looked in the flowers. She looked in the small, wooded area beside the riverbed. Her daughter was nowhere to be found. Her calling had changed from playful "Kore! Kore?" to louder, sterner, much more panicky shouts of "Persephone? Persephone?" Her thoughts strayed to the river, but no. That was ridiculous. Kore had never disobeyed her before, why should she start now?

After tearing through ever place she could possibly be, Demeter was unable to stifle the rising feelings of dread as she turned to the river. She had not even looked at the opposite shore, and now noticed a splash of color making a brilliant gash on the dull grey rocks. When she reached it, her heart stopped beating. Even the birds seemed to silence themselves as the Golden Corn Goddess looked down at the horrifying sight that greeted her eyes. It was her daughter's signature bouquet, looking slightly trampled. Next to it lay her daughters favorite girdle, and beneath the girdle there was a sharp rock smeared with a dully glittering golden substance-ichor, almost certainly Kore's.

Panic swirled around her stomach and rose into her chest in black, brackish waves, choking her, blinding her to all but one sight: all that was left of her precious daughter, and stifling coherent thought but for one: something horrible had happened to Kore. Unable to control herself, Demeter screamed, a frightening, terrible howl that could be heard even on Olympus, full of agony and sorrow and fear, most of anything, fear. There was so much that could have happened. She could have been drowned, stabbed, eaten by wild animals, carried off by wild animals, or- the most likely option- carried off by someone else, and Demeter had no idea where she might be or what they might be doing to her.

The tears that had started rolling down Demeter's' cheeks blurred her vision. Her hands shook with tremors as she picked up and refastened her emerald green travelling cloak. She staggered out the door, sobbing uncontrollably. The entire front of her was wet from the big, fat tears she had shed when she reached her destination: the throne room of Zeus on Olympus.

Her brother was indeed there, and having an audience with someone. He dismissed the person, however, upon seeing his sister so distraught. She was so weakened by grief that she was unable to put one foot in front of the other to walk up the steps to the dais of her brother's throne, or to even stand up anymore. She crumpled to a heap on the ground. She felt strong arms pick her up and deposit her gently into a chair. When she opened her eyes, even though Zeus was no more than two feet away, she could not make out his fine features. "Demeter," he said softly. "What is it that has upset you so?" She hiccupped intermittently as she told him everything. He remained silent as she started weeping once more, her sobs echoing in a frighteningly loud manner around the marble throne room. He stroked his beard and pondered the problem.

"Please, Zeus! Brother, O Almighty One! Bring back our child, my Kore! Your power is unmatched, unrivaled by anyone in the cosmos. If anyone can bring her back, I know it would be you. Please….!" Demeter's desperate plea petered off as she fell from her chair onto her knees, and then facedown on the floor once more, muffling the sobs a little. " Demeter. . . . . . . ." Zeus' voice had become even more gentle and soft. "I can't." Demeter lifted her face to look incredulously at her brother. Her normally tanned face had paled, as though the marble had leached all the color from it, leaving behind only the red tip of her sniffling nose and her huge, watering brown eyes were filled with disbelief. Never had she heard Zeus say, "I can't."

Seeds of anger had taken root in her heart, as she demanded, "Why not?" Zeus looked uncomfortable. "She is no longer in my realm." He responded. "Oh, really?" said Demeter, rising from the floor, voice acidic and ice cold. "Then where, might I ask, is she?" Zeus hung his head, as though in shame. "She is in the Underworld." Demeter's first reaction was to laugh. It wasn't that she was at all in a laughing mood; it was just the laughability of the statement. She would know, she would feel it in her heart if her life's treasure were dead. Her laughter was mirthless, though, hard and brittle, as though it, like her heart, was made of ice, would never know warmth or love or happiness again.

"I don't mean she's dead, though." Zeus continued when Demeter had finished her half-crazed laughing. "I mean while you were on Olympus, our daughter picked a flower, little knowing it was one of the sacred narcissi our grandmother Gaea puts out to honor our brother, the gloomy and terrible Hades. The flowers only grow where the earth between the surface and the underworld is very thin, and put down extraordinarily deep roots. When Lord Hades felt his kingdom jolt because of the picked flower, he rode up to the surface to investigate. He saw our daughter, and giving thought to no one but himself, her picked her up and carried her off to the Underworld to be his bride. I cannot bring her back because I know he will not give her up." This time, Demeter fell forward in a dead faint.

When Demeter came to, she was tucked in her bed and her sister Hestia was sitting beside her. "Demeter! You're awake!" she exclaimed, and then babbled on about truly stupid things that lulled into a meaningless drone, falling on deaf ears. The only thing she wanted to hear was news about how her child was faring in the Land of the Dead. Knowing Hades, she had probably already been forced into marriage and had some awful Underworld concoction shoved down her throat, tying her forever to Polydegmon, the Host of Many. Demeter rose from her bed and pushed past her sister, her teeth bared and fingers curled into claws at the thought of what she would do if she ever got her hands on that wicked, hateful, bad-seed excuse for a god.

Demeter was aware of Hestia's screams as she seized a knife, one of the very few sharp implements that she kept in the house and hacked at her flowing, dark hair, leaving herself with short, lusterless tufts. She tore her golden dress to shreds and took the sack she once kept sunflower seeds in and wrapped it around herself. Her cheeks were dry and her eyes hard and sparking with anger. Hades would regret the day he ever set eyes on her daughter.

She dried the earth and set fires to wheat fields and barns. She broke plows and drove oxen to madness. She kicked over furrows and made once-rushing rivers dwindle to trickling streams. The naiads and dryads and satyrs shrunk away from her, hiding and praying this fearful goddess of vengeance would pass them by unharmed. Once- lush hills turned brown and crackly. It would have broken her heart, under normal circumstances, the mere thought of killing things, but that was nevertheless what she proceeded to do. And anyway, how could you break what was already broken?

**So we learned quite a bit about Demeter this chapter. She's a good mother, but has a bad hovering tendency. Rather than acknowledge that her daughter (who is at this point her only, precious child) is growing up, she deludes herself into believing that by cutting off virtually all contact with the outside world, she can keep Persephone a child forever, and Persephone will never even know what she's missing. She truly loves her child, nicknaming her Kore (girl) as opposed to calling her by her given name, Persephone. (she who destroys the light) She's dramatic, but then again her child just got kidnapped, so we can cut her some slack. This chapter was kind of short, so the next one should be inordinately long…. :) thanks for reading! **


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